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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25955167">Uncertainty in Mentality</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swapder/pseuds/Swapder'>Swapder</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Swapder’s Don’t Starve Short Stories [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Don't Starve (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Fluff, Friendship, Full Moon Blues Lead To Anxiety In Wilson, Gen, I don’t know how to write comfort oops, I think?, Mild Hurt/Comfort, My ADHD accidentally triggers Wilson’s ADHD to lead to wandering in thought whoops, Sometimes he likes how a stick looks and goes ‘Oh neat you are mine now’, Werewolf AU, Wilson and His Stick Collection, Wilson’s ADHD shows as I write in Very Personal Third Person Limited, it is mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:41:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25955167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swapder/pseuds/Swapder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson’s loneliness and lycanthropy have him confused sometimes. Some time after meeting up with survivors to form a group, a random sentence gives him clause for alarm. He’s not sure if it’s a good thing to focus on...<br/>Sometimes you need to ask a friend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The survivors as a big family, Willow &amp; Wilson (Don't Starve), Wilson &amp; Anxiety, Wilson &amp; Willow (Don’t Starve), Wilson &amp; Willow are like siblings, Wilson &amp; Willow as friends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Swapder’s Don’t Starve Short Stories [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Uncertainty in Mentality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Honestly I just love Wilson and Willow interacting as siblings, and they seem like two who would just hang out when they aren’t busy. Plus I tend to fixate on a select few characters.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At first Wilson thought it was just the lack of contact that made him so excited about the growing group of survivors. Finally, others he could talk to and relate to! Mostly. There were occasions such as when he and Woodie would argue on the moral status of birds, or he’d yell in frustration at Webber’s spider collection wandering in. Mostly, though, the group’s presence made him feel so much better. It never really bothered him until a passing comment from Miss.Wickerbottom started his questioning. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everyone at the camp knew of the strange things about one another; such as Wendy’s not quite gone sister, Maxwell’s whispering book of dastardly magicks, both Woodie and Wilson’s supernatural statuses. It would be impossible to not notice Woodie’s snacking on twigs or Wilson’s mild stress induced transformations. Especially since he was so poor at managing his sanity, even though he’d been in the Constant the third longest after Maxwell and Charlie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So naturally, he eventually heard comment on wolves from Miss.Wickerbottom. She was a blessing to talk to at times since she could provide a scientific mind to help him judge his theories and thoughts with less... Bias. It always was an issue he had and she wasn’t afraid to point it out; making him feel much like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regardless, they had been talking and he mentioned how he felt so much better in the presence of a group. Wickerbottom said, so casually that it wouldn’t normally be so world shattering, something along the lines of, ‘Canis Lupus are rather social pack creatures’. Wilson couldn’t actually remember word for word but it boiled down to that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was so brief that he hadn’t thought much about it at the time; but as the days passed it itched at his skull and wouldn’t let go, much like a flea. He couldn’t help but dwell on the past and the present. His thoughts compared himself before and now. Uncertainty slipped in deeply, along with worry strong enough that one day he popped a question balloon at random.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Am I... Too clingy?” He asked Willow. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his waistcoat, claws plucking at the stitching that use to be so nice. She was certain to be honest enough, especially with how crass she could be at times.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She paused her lighting of a leaf for a moment before continuing, “What’dya mean?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was his cue to start pacing while fiddling, even if it wasn’t necessary, “I’m not sure... I was thinking. My lycanthropy makes me look weird, but what if it wasn’t just physical changes? Besides the strange cravings and weird throwing thing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Willow’s leaf was set ablaze at this point, and Wilson had already started a bit of a dent in the soft, mushy dirt. It rained not too long ago, and the dirt held the water as if it were long lost family. Wilson kept talking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I never liked people very much. Now seemingly suddenly I get upset when everyone leaves me completely alone. There’s weird habits I didn’t use to have. I don’t know how much of it’s from my time here in The Constant, or this curse!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why’s it bother you so much?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well— I, uh... Because that would be bad?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you really rather be the same as before though? I know I wouldn’t!” Willow’s finger fiddled with the thumb lighter wheel, making the characteristic ‘chhik’ noise.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“...Not really I suppose....” Wilson frowned. He thought back again and the frown deepened. “I might just be being paranoid again. The thought of not being myself scares me enough for it. What if I lose myself or something? Or, or what if I accidentally give it to someone else? I don’t think I could live with that...”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything was silent, other than the distant caw of a couple ravens watching them. Worry slipped through Wilson’s skin and soaked him from within.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It took a moment before he noticed Willow’s lighter had stopped making the flicking noise. His strange, pointed ear twitched and turned towards her before he looked over. The worry that he made her scared or upset was for naught. She was simply watching the flame with a look of consideration.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you really think those would happen?” She finally spoke.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Science says it could.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve lasted this long, haven’t ya?” She gestured towards him, “Alone. Well, you aren’t anymore. But, that’s a good thing. What’s started your scare now?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilson ran a hand through his hair a few times as he admitted, “...Miss.Wickerbottom said wolves are social creatures.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”</span>
  <span class="s2"><em>Really</em>?</span>
  <span class="s1">” Willow’s voice was full of an incredulous tone that Wilson mistook for disbelief of the fact itself, instead of it being the reason.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Yes. And, I didn’t think much of it at first but then I thought about it more. I thought about it for a </span> <span class="s2"><em>long</em> </span><span class="s1">while.” He paused with a blink. Then he chuckled nervously and brushed his hair with a hand again, “Well, not that long actually; she told me that a couple days ago. But it feels like forever ago.”</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wilson. People are social too.” Willow said, “I’m pretty sure I read that somewhere once. Plus everyone has been alone for who knows how many years.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilson had not considered that at all. As much as he pretended he knew, he didn’t actually know that much about biology, much less people biology— what was it called? Humanology? He couldn’t remember. He was a chemist and a number lover at heart, more than anything. A weird deal giving strange knowledge didn’t help when the Knowledge was fickle, and more like occasional FunFacts™ than actual help. Such as vague ideas of books that were written after his time. He wondered if <em>Lord of The Flies</em> was as interesting as it sounded. It was fun to quote it a little either way. At least he knew more vocabulary words than before, that was always nice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His wandering mind was brought back to reality by the small ‘awe’ Willow made when her fire finally burnt out. He checked his pockets before offering her one of his ‘favourite sticks’ as he liked to call the remaining sticks in his pocket. Collecting things was fun. She gladly accepted it to continue her burning. It was better than her burning a whole forest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe I have overthought one small sentence.” He admitted when the stick left his hand, “I was really worried about something before I was worried about this. I can’t remember what it was, but I probably just shifted the anxiety to this instead.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Willow gave a shrug in response, “I dunno.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Neither did Wilson, but that was okay. At least he had people to share his worries to, and stop him from going overboard. Maybe he’ll remember what the original concern was later and think about it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That night’s full moon was completely forgotten as the two changed the topic to something unrelated that both could agree on.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>“One for sorrow, Two for mirth...”<br/>-Part of that one raven/magpie counting rhyme</p><p>Anyway, that’s why two ravens are watching.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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